She dreams of her dead loved ones, each with their hearts ripped out. She stops sometimes, wonders about the symbolism of
those images, painting the inside of her mind. And she weeps, because now she's found people to replace them, to fill the
voids left by their deaths. And everyday it gets harder to remember their faces, their laughter, their touch. She barely
remembers her little brother anymore, so she interposes Naruto's face over his, and leaves it at that. Naruto isn't what her brother was, she realizes, but what he could have, might have, been. And every night, when she lies awake in Jiraiya's arms, she tries to rememeber what her love looked like. And if she treats Jiraiya any differently because of it, he doesn't mention it. And if she finds that that's the only way she can sleep facing him, she doesn't acknowledge it. But she doesn't know which is worse, replacing her brother, or pretending with her lover.